A Vision of Heaven

The night after the evening that Nicholas died was excruciating for me. It was a Sunday, the first day of March and we had spent the day with family grieving the loss of our son. After everyone had departed I was left feeling very alone and very empty. It was brutal. My heart was aching and I could barely breathe, the sadness was almost too much to bear. I lay awake in our bed that night wondering how I would ever fall asleep, for the tears would not stop flowing and the sobs were shaking my entire body. I felt as if a huge weight was sitting on my chest and I had a splitting headache from crying all day.

Eventually I began to pray. I prayed in a desperate kind of way, asking God to take away my sadness, if only for just a few short hours so that I could get some sleep. I asked Him to grant me peace and to ease my pain. I asked for comfort for myself and my husband and daughter, that we might have the strength to get through the next few weeks and months without Nicholas. I prayed to Mary, Queen of Heaven and Earth, that as a mother she may ease some of my pain and suffering. I united myself to her in her suffering as a mother who watched her son die. I thanked her for saying "yes" to God and allowing her son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, to be born into the world so that we all may live with Him in splendor for all eternity. I asked her to watch over my son, for she was his mother now, since I could no longer be. I prayed and prayed and prayed for quite a long time. My heart started to realize that the only way I could find peace and be able to sleep was to know for certain my son was okay. I needed to know that he was happy and safe. My prayers turned into a desperate plea for a vision of Nicholas, a vision of him in Heaven. My body was curled in the fetal position, my hands grasped together, and a stream of tears were flowing from my eyes. My body was convulsing in sobs of sorrow when all at once I was silenced. My tears stopped, my body stilled,  my ears began to listen and my eyes began to see. It was as if a wave washed over me and all at once I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and love. 

In my mind, with my eyes closed I could could see beautiful, fluffy, white clouds which began to part and standing in the distance beyond them I saw a small child. A boy. My vision began to see the child more clearly and I recognized it was our Nicholas. He was unlike I had ever seen him before. He was standing! He was standing so tall, whole in body, his muscles no longer atrophied. He had a radiant smile on his face and I began to cry again, just being able to see him brought me so much joy. His wavy hair was tousled and he was wearing light blue shorts and a plain light red tee shirt. His feet were bare and as my vision got closer to him, I could see he was so light, so bright, his skin seemed to be illuminated. 

He could see me, could sense I was there, and so he spoke to me. He spoke with a voice that was unaffected by SMA, perfect speech for a six-year-old child. He said with excitement, " Look at me, Mom! Look how tall I am! Look at how my legs can work now! I can run. Watch me run, Mommy, I can run up this hill!" He was standing on a beautiful grassy hill covered in wild flowers and I watched him sprint up it. Then he said, "And look, Mom, my hands work now too, I can pick flowers. I will pick a bouquet for you, Mommy." Then he proceeded to turn away from me and crouched down to pick several of the wild flowers growing in the tall, green grass. I watched in stunned silence and amazement as I watched my son able to move his body in Heaven in a way he could never achieve on earth. He turned back to face me again and moved his right arm in a sweeping gesture and said, "Look, Mom, it's so beautiful here. See the beach and the water? There's a beach here, too." I could then see that down at the bottom of the hill Nicholas was standing on was a coastline with crystal blue water and a sandy shore. The sky was a brilliant blue with wispy clouds floating overhead. My body began to shake with sobs again and Nicholas said to me, "Please don't cry, Mommy. I am so happy here." When he said this I could sense that he wasn't sad for me, that he wasn't attached to me or my emotions any longer. When Nicholas was living he was a very sensitive child, and he could sense my sadness when I was feeling down, and I, in turn, could feel his empathy for me. Now, I clearly understood that he wasn't sad that I was so upset, he was simply removed from me and my earthy emotions and he was too happy, too joyful, too full of grace to feel sadness or pain any longer. Finally he said, "I have to go now, Mommy. I will visit you again soon. I love you." As he started to turn and walk away, I could feel myself desperately trying to hold on to him. I could feel my mind trying to reach out and grasp the vision of him just a few minutes longer. I didn't want to let him go. And yet, all at once, my vision went dark and I was alone again. 

I finished my prayers by thanking God for the amazing vision of Nicholas and I finally felt the peace I needed to fall asleep. I cried a bit more, but this time my tears were tears of thanksgiving for I now knew with clarity that Nicholas had taken his rightful place in his heavenly home. I snuggled into my pillow and let the emotions of the day drift away. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that night and I awoke the next morning feeling that I could face the day, knowing without a doubt, that our son was safe, happy, and full of the joy and splendor that is Heaven. The next morning I told Jeff about my vision of Nicholas and as he listened, big salty tears rolled down his cheeks, as he was so grateful for confirmation that our son was at peace. 

In the days and weeks following this miraculous vision, I take such comfort in knowing that Nicholas is whole in body and spirit, in perfect peace and harmony with the saints and angels, living in such radiant holiness and peace. This vision has carried me through some of my darkest moments in missing our son and has allowed me to feel pure tranquility like nothing else can.